Lie Detector

The truth is a fascinating subject, mainly because it's avoided so often in an attempt to avoid hurting either the self or other people. It's hidden for advantage, for manipulation, and for plain cruelty. And it's never available when you want it. Strangers lie to each other constantly. An unmarried couple lie to each other in one of every three interactions.

It seems that deception is never far away. And it's horrible.

I'm cursed, I suppose I could call it that, to be painfully aware of whether somebody is lying or telling the truth. But I never know what the actual truth is, unless it's a closed question, with a very clear 'yes' or 'no' answer. So I'm stuck with listening to people pretend, watching them all spout tales that aren't even close to being accurate, without knowing the context behind them or what they're hiding.

I am like a human lie detector, just a more accurate version. I've always been right when it comes to that, and it's a strangely unpleasant gift to have, given the fact that I always know whether to trust somebody or not.

Especially considering how I got that skill.

My parents were volunteers, taking part in a genetic manipulation trial unknown to anyone except maybe the government, where their children were used as guinea pigs to work out how to insert certain characteristics into a person. My older sister can glow in the dark whenever she wants. My older brother is able to photosynthesise at will. And then there's me. And I can just recognise when somebody, it doesn't matter who, is lying. I can't even turn my skill off.

It was me that realised that the laboratory were never going to let us go, and that they were planning to kill us children when we got to the age of sixteen. We forced them to tell us that. And they had to let us go. They were charged for preparing to murder children and adults, and my family moved to the capital city so that we could be monitored by the state, in an attempt to keep us safe.

It hasn't kept us happy, safe to say.

I was about five years old when we left, and I haven't forgotten that life, or what it felt like to know that somebody planned on causing my death the moment I reached a certain age. It seemed cruel to me, that someone would even think to do that.

Even then, I understood how precious life really is.

And how twisted people can be.

Life these days isn't pleasant, but it's not unbearable. I go to school, the same school as everyone else. We are told to keep our special skills to ourselves, for fear that somebody could take advantage of us. The government checks on us regularly, and when they found out that my mother was pregnant with another child (her fourth), just a few months ago, they flipped.

My parents have a history with producing children that are a little different and harder to protect, so another person in the family just adds to how careful we have to be. But the baby appears to be perfectly normal, which could be even worse. If they get insecure because they don't have any of our powers, it will be our fault.

My parents promised to inform the authorities if anything seems at all strange about the baby, which is going to be tough, but it was the only way to keep them. They didn't want to have to get rid of it. And, if I'm being honest, none of their children want that either. We care about our unborn sibling. We're not heartless. Just different.

We've been living underground, for the majority of my life, and that's a surprisingly debilitating experience. I can't have any sort of social media, my phone is constantly checked for who's tracked it, and my friends aren't allowed to visit my house. They don't have a clue where I live, or why they can't know.

My life is wrapped up in a net of secrets. If any of the strings break, everything unravels, and the whole of my family could end up dead, killed to protect the rest of the country.